


Paradise

by MakingPoetry



Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Bucky Barnes deserves nice things, Captain America: Civil War (Movie) Spoilers, Fluff, Love Confessions, M/M, Post-Captain America: Civil War (Movie), Recovering!Bucky Barnes, Sleepy Cuddles
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-13
Updated: 2016-05-13
Packaged: 2018-06-08 03:49:19
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,416
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6837928
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MakingPoetry/pseuds/MakingPoetry
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After thawing out, getting a new arm, and recovering from what Hydra did to him, Bucky has something important to tell Steve, but Steve already knows.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Paradise

The chill felt like it was still lingering, even though he'd been awake for a few hours by now. The house was silent, sunlight streaming in through the walls of windows. It was peaceful. He wasn't used to things that were genuinely peaceful. Usually there was a catch, some lingering worry that he needed to be concerned about. Here, there was nothing.

He could hear the clock ticking out in the living room and outside somewhere a bird was singing.

It felt like paradise.

Sitting up, he swung his legs over the side of the bed and rested his feet on the floor. The rug was impossibly soft and squishy. He took a moment to wiggle his toes in the carpet before standing up, dragging the blanket from the bed with him. He draped it around his shoulders, his metal arm catching the light in the process. The new one still felt a little strange, he was getting used to it. The weirdness would wear off eventually.

Pulling the blanket close around him, he padded out of the bedroom and down the hall. Sometimes, like now, he worried he was still on ice and that this was a dream. It was almost too good to be true.

Steve was sitting on the couch in the living room, barefoot and serene with a book in his lap. He looked up when Bucky entered the room, cheeks dimpling as he smiled. "Hey, Buck. Trouble sleeping?"

Bucky grunted, shrugging one shoulder as crossed the room and dropped down onto the couch next to Steve. "S'too quiet." The bedroom was too empty, too lonely. Devoid of human contact. He wanted to be reminded that Steve was really there, that this was real. Bucky was awake, Hydra's programming was out of his head, and he was whole again. There wasn't a lot that could make things better right now than being with Steve.

Whether Steve was making room for him or not, Bucky tucked his feet up on the couch and laid down to put his head in Steve's lap. Steve accommodated him, resting his book on the arm of the couch. He was just as happy to have Bucky there as Bucky was to _be_ there. Content now, Bucky closed his eyes. Steve was warm and solid and _real_. It was enough to fight back the chill.

Wordlessly, Steve went back to his book. After a few minutes though, he rested his free hand on Bucky's head, gently carding his fingers through his hair. The soothing, repetitive motions lulled Bucky back to sleep. In this moment, Steve was the only thing he needed.

Steve read in silence, petting Bucky's hair until he realized he was snoring. Smiling, Steve rested his hand on Bucky's head, thumb tracing along the curve of his ear. It was hard not to think about all the time Bucky had been frozen, all the months he'd spend searching for a way to undo what had been done to him. Bucky was here now. He was awake, safe, and Steve wouldn't let anyone hurt him again.

The longer Bucky slept on his lap, the closer Steve got to nodding off. His eyes started closing and his head drooped down. He found himself reading the same sentences multiple times and that was finally when he decided that reading was a futile effort right now. Marking his place, he closed the book and set it aside on the end table. There was only one small problem with their current situation; Bucky was comfortable but Steve couldn't move without jostling him. He was just going to have to go for it.

Sliding his hands under Bucky's shoulders, Steve lifted him up and twisted around on the couch, wedging his legs under him. Bucky woke with a start, almost toppling off the couch. It was only Steve's hold on him that kept him steady. "Sorry," Steve apologized, "I was trying not to wake you up."

"You thought I'd sleep though _this_?" Bucky said, grunting as he tried to make room for Steve's feet and legs. It was harder than it sounded.

"Sorry," Steve repeated, but he didn't stop worming his way under Bucky until he'd hauled him halfway onto his chest and had his legs stretched out on the couch.

It was an awful lot of jostling, bumping, and slight manhandling, but this? The end result of being able to have his head on Steve's chest and listen to his heartbeat? It was worth it. It reminded him of when they'd been kids, when they'd both been smaller. When they'd been innocent, without blood on their hands. Before Steve had gone through so much just to save him. He still wasn't sure he was worth it, but _Steve_ thought he was. It made his breath stick in his chest and he shuddered when Steve wrapped his arms around him.

He licked his lips and took a deep breath. "Steve?"

"Yeah, Buck?"

Bucky realized suddenly that he had no idea how to say what he wanted to. The words should have been easy; this wasn't the first time he'd thought about them and wanted to say them. He'd spent a long time keeping them to himself. Over seventy years. What if he'd waited too long? What if things were different.now?

"Bucky?" Steve prodded, sounding mildly concerned.

Deciding the hell with it, it was now or never, Bucky braced his hands on Steve's chest, pushed himself up, and leaned forward to kiss him. He caught Steve by surprise and for a minute he didn't respond. Worrying that he'd fucked up, he started to pull away, opening his mouth to apologize, but Steve cupped the back of his head and pulled him in to kiss him back. Bucky forgot how to breathe until Steve pulled away, and even then it took him a few long seconds to inhale.

"I love you," Steve said while Bucky's brain was still catching up with what had just happened.

"That was supposed to be my line." Steve had beat him to it, but he wasn't upset. The only things he could ever be upset with Steve for were if Steve did something stupid (again), or risked his life (again), or did wildly ridiculous things for other people who may or may not have been worth it (again). The only thing that Steve beating him to it did was give him less time to worry about it.

"I know." Steve smiled and gently pushed Bucky's hair back from his face.

"You know?"

"Yeah."

"For how long?"

"A while." Steve shrugged. He'd known since before the war and during the war, but they'd never had a chance and he hadn't wanted to make things complicated. Since then, since he'd found Bucky again, there'd been too much happening too fast.

"And you never said anything?" What had Steve been waiting for? Or had he been just as worried as Bucky?

"It was never a good time." And maybe it had been stupid and risky and Steve had always thought there would be a right time, that they would have the chance without something happening to prevent it, but here they were. His moment had come and he couldn't be happier. Bucky was the only person in the world who made him feel this way, like he could do anything, like he would never be alone.

Bucky shook his head. Steve had a point. Since Steve had found him in Romania everything had happened so fast and there'd been so much to deal with. Before the war it would have been dangerous for them. He didn't blame Steve, but he still wished he'd told him sooner. Maybe before he'd gone back into cryo.

"There were plenty of times," he said, kissing Steve again because he could, and maybe because he was trying to memorize the feeling of his mouth. "You're just a punk."

Steve laughed. "Uh-huh. Jerk," he replied fondly.

Resting his hands on Steve's shoulders, Bucky laid his head down on his chest again, listening to the sound of his heartbeat. They had plenty of time to figure things out now, take it as slow as they wanted to, and there was no danger.

"I love you," Bucky murmured.

He'd thought things had been almost too good to be true before, he'd worried that he'd been dreaming and thought that almost nothing could make this moment any better. He wasn't dreaming and it _had_ gotten better. 

It really was paradise.


End file.
